Page 114 of Knot Your Karma
“Spread your legs,” Declan says gently. “Let us see all of you.”
I comply without thinking, omega instincts responding to alpha direction. The vintage lace panties are already soaked, and the way all three of them are looking at me makes me feel like the most desirable thing in the universe.
“So wet already,” Adrian observes, his thumb tracing the edge of lace. “So ready for us.”
“Please,” I whisper, arching toward their touches. “I need?—”
“We know what you need,” Reed says, settling between my legs. “Let us take care of you.”
His mouth finds my inner thigh, and apparently that spot has a direct line to every nerve ending in my body because I make a sound that would probably violate noise ordinances in most residential areas. When he finally puts his mouth exactly where I need it, the sensation is so intense I cry out loud enough that I’m grateful for the partition.
“That’s it,” Declan says, his hands finding my breasts through delicate lace. “Let us hear you. Let us know how good we’re making you feel.”
Adrian’s mouth finds my throat, and the combination is overwhelming—Reed’s skilled tongue working magic between my legs while Declan and Adrian worship every other inch of available skin.
“So sweet,” Reed says against me, and the vibration makes me make sounds I didn’t know I could make. “So perfect. Could do this for hours.”
“Don’t,” I gasp, already trembling on the edge of something explosive. “I’m so close, I can’t?—”
“Then don’t,” Adrian says against my ear. “Let go. Let us catch you.”
When I come, it’s with the kind of intensity that makes me forget my own name, and the sound I make definitely just traumatized our poor limo driver. Reed works me through it until I’m sobbing with oversensitivity.
“Beautiful,” Declan says roughly, helping me settle back against the plush seats while Reed straightens my lace. “Absolutely beautiful.”
“We’re almost home,” Adrian observes, glancing out the tinted windows.
“Good,” I manage. “Because that was just the appetizer.”
The limo pulls into our driveway, and I catch sight of the driver’s carefully neutral expression in the rearview mirror. Poor man probably deserves hazard pay.
“Ready for the main course?” Reed asks.
“More than ready.”
“Inside,” Declan says. “Now.”
We make it approximately three steps through the front door before Reed apparently decides that waiting is for people with better self-control than we have. He presses me against the hallway wall, his mouth finding mine in a kiss that tastes like champagne and promises.
“Been thinking about this all day,” he says against my lips. “Watching you in this dress, saying those vows, binding yourself to us officially... God, Karma, I’ve never wanted anything more.”
The dress basically falls off me like it was designed for quick removal, which is either really convenient or a sign that I’m way more eager for this than I thought. Probably both. Cool air hits places that have been aching for touch all day, and I’m left standing in vintage lace lingerie that makes Reed’s breath catch.
“Bedroom,” Adrian says firmly. “Now. Before we scandalize the neighbors.”
He lifts me easily, carrying me toward the stairs while Reed and Declan follow close behind, shedding formal wear with increasing urgency. By the time we reach my bedroom, inhibitions and clothing have been abandoned throughout the house like a very expensive treasure hunt.
“On the bed,” Declan says, and his voice carries the kind of alpha command that makes my omega instincts sing. “Let us look at you.”
I settle onto the rumpled comforter, hyperaware of three sets of eyes tracking every movement with hunger that’s barely leashed. The afternoon light streaming through thewindows makes everything golden and soft, and for a moment we just look at each other—really look, without ceremony crowds or family expectations or anything but honest need and love so intense it feels like drowning in the best possible way.
“Perfect,” Adrian says quietly, settling beside me on the bed. “Absolutely perfect.”
His hands find my face, thumbs tracing my cheekbones with the kind of careful attention he gives to everything precious. When he kisses me, it’s with thorough devotion that speaks to years of being careful with beautiful things.
“My turn,” Reed says, settling on my other side. “I’ve been wanting to do this properly all day.”
His mouth finds that spot on my neck that makes me make embarrassing sounds, then moves to the place behind my ear that apparently has a direct line to every nerve ending in my body.
